


Stupid

by hatebeat



Series: Putting the gears in motion [3]
Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 11:43:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/886866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hatebeat/pseuds/hatebeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A glance at Nathan Explosion through the eyes of those that tried to save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid

_September, 1983_

The boy was awfully still for a child of eight, she noted. Most children this age could hardly sit for two minutes without starting to squirm, but he was just as still as he was quiet. 

During his intake session, his parents had told her that Nathan hadn't even begun to speak until three years ago at the age of five, which was concerning enough, but according to the parents, the boy hadn't endured any trauma until recently.

"Are you adjusting well in your new class?" 

He nodded, once.

"Well, that's good to hear. How about friends? Have you made new friends there?"

He stared at her like he was staring right through her but said nothing.

"None at all? Do you miss your friends from before the accident?"

Nathan blinked, but remained silent, unflinching.

"It's okay if you do miss them. That would be natural, you know. If you want to tell anyone about it, you can talk to me, or your parents, or a teacher. We are all willing to listen."

Nathan narrowed his eyes, but then shook his head.

"You don't want to say anything at all?"

Nothing. 

"Well, what have you been dreaming about lately?" If she just asked if he was having nightmares, he would likely say no. Besides, in younger children like this, sometimes they had trouble discerning whether or not their dreams were really nightmares. But given what he had seen, she couldn't imagine any child not having nightmares...

However, they said that even at the time of the accident, he hadn't moved a muscle. A child this young witnessing half of his classmates run down by a truck, completely unaffected... It was very likely that he had some kind of personality disorder.

Nathan didn't answer the question, though. He acted as if she hadn't even said anything.

"No bad dreams? Do you ever wake up, scared?"

Nathan furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his knees. So, there were nightmares, then. 

"Nathan, it's okay to talk about what's going on. You've experienced something very traumatic, and talking about how you feel will make you feel better. Can you tell me about your bad dreams?"

Nathan looked back up at her, scowling. He pressed his lips together tightly for a moment, and then said, "Don't remember."

"Alright, Nathan. That's okay. Can you tell me about how you felt when the accident happened?"

Nathan shook his head.

"Were you scared?"

Nathan shook his head. 

"You're awfully brave," she told him. "I would have been scared."

Nathan frowned at her. "You're dumb."

\---

_March, 1986_

He looked across his desk to the boy. He had the look of a troublemaker. Ripped jeans, hair nearly to his shoulders, and a scowl on his face. However, he was completely calm. The other kids he had called into his office were either nervous or in a mood to fight, but Nathan Explosion didn't seem to be either of those. On the surface, at least, he was calm as still water.

"Nathan, you were sent here because of your SSAT scores," he told the boy calmly. Nathan said nothing to him, just stared, as if waiting for him to continue. 

"You failed the reading comprehension section of the test," he explained. 

No reaction whatsoever. Wouldn't most children be at least a little bit concerned?

"In fact, you failed rather dismally."

"So what?" Nathan finally asked him, his stony exterior beginning to crack. 

"Well, Nathan, if you don't pass the test, you won't be able to move on to the sixth grade."

The boy said nothing.

"Doesn't that bother you? Do you want to repeat the fifth grade?"

"I don't care."

He really hated cocky little jackasses like this... Really, a nervous kid would be better any day of the week. "You don't care? All of your friends going on to the next grade while you stay behind doesn't bother you?"

"I don't care."

He repressed a sigh. "Well, regardless, we are going to have to contact your parents about enrolling you in our after-school program aimed at increasing your score by the re-take date."

"I don't care."

If he was this kid's parent, he would give him a good smack and see if he started caring... "Nathan, you're almost eleven years old and your scores indicate that you can hardly read. How can that not bother you?"

The boy stood up abruptly from the chair, and he realised that Nathan's fists were clenched.

"I'm going. Call my parents if you want. I _don't care_." Nathan turned and left his office. He really should reconsider working with kids for a living...

\---

_August, 1988_

It had been three days and the kid hadn't said a word. Not to him, not to any of the other kids. When he pulled Nathan Explosion in for his session today, he was determined to make him talk.

"You're a stubborn little brat, and that's fine," he said, impatient. "But if you don't complete this program under our terms, you're going to have to go to juvie. Do you know what juvie is like, kid?"

Explosion glared back at him, his face hard. 

"I don't doubt you can handle it," he continued. "Given what you're here for, I'm sure you'd be just fine in juvie. Maybe you'd even like it. You could do your share of ass-kicking, huh?"

The kid wasn't going to say a word. He sighed, not bothering to hide it.

"Look, kid. I'm doing this for your own good. I'm not letting you out of my office until you talk. We can sit here all day if we have to." But hopefully they _would not_ have to.

"What the hell are you trying to get me to say?" Explosion finally asked, visibly frustrated. 

Interesting. He almost felt bad for the kid. It was like he really didn't understand why he was here or something. Maybe he didn't. 

He calmly opened Explosion's file and pulled out the photographs.

"This boy. You remember doing this, I take it." He held up the first photograph. The boy's face had been sliced open twice with a broken bottle, and he had sustained several broken bones from both a baseball bat and Explosion's hands, it seemed. A police officer had caught him in the act. It was a war between two street gangs, they said, but these two were the only two engaged in physical conflict at the time. It had taken three officers to pull Explosion off of the other boy.

And this wasn't even his first offense.

"Yeah. So?"

The lack of concern from Explosion was disturbing. 

"What would make you do this to another human being?" 

Nathan frowned, hard. He had never seen someone frown so hard. 

"Do you not care about the pain you caused him?"

"It's war," Explosion growled at him. "What the fuck do you expect?"

Such a simplistic view of things... He almost envied this child. But real life was far more complex. 

"What made you join a gang, Nathan?" He gave the boy over a full minute of silence, but when he still didn't answer, he decided to press. "Are you using drugs?"

"No."

"Is there a problem with your home life?"

" _No._ "

"Then why would you want to be in a gang?"

Explosion scowled at him. "I like fighting."

He sat back in his chair. "I see. You're _angry_."

Explosion said nothing to confirm or deny it, didn't move a muscle. 

"It's fine to be angry, Nathan. It's human nature to be angry. But you've got to learn to express your anger in a better way. What kind of hobbies do you have?"

Explosion looked away from him. Perhaps this gang thing was just that for him- a hobby. He liked to fight, so he took up fighting for fun. Boys were so stupid at this age... And they really needed a proper outlet for that stupidity.

"You like fighting. You like physical contact. Have you thought about playing a sport? Maybe football or wrestling."

\---

_May, 1989_

"We need to talk to you about something, son," Oscar said as Nathan was shoveling mashed potatoes onto his plate. Nathan paused his spoon for a moment and looked at his dad. 

"I'm retiring from the army," Oscar said, but was almost immediately interrupted by his wife.

"And we're moving to Florida!"

Oscar watched his son, but he didn't say anything, just looked between his two parents and then finished scooping his potatoes. 

"We think it'll be good for you," Oscar hedged.

"Even after you went through that damned program, you've still been involved in that _gang_ ," Rose said, raising her voice. Oscar watched his son cringe a bit. "So we're taking you away from it. You'll start high school in a new city, be able to make new friends, finally clean up your act!"

Nathan stuffed a huge spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Oscar took a drink of his beer to keep from yelling at his son, but sometimes he felt like he had to in order to get through to the kid.

"I'll have more time, too. So we can do things together more. Go fishing, hunting, all that fun stuff," Oscar said.

"When?" Nathan finally asked, surprisingly calmly. Really, Oscar thought there was something just not right about this boy sometimes...

"Well, soon, actually..."

"Right after you finish the school year," Rose said. "We didn't want to tell you about it ahead of time in case you were upset, but we've really just got your best interests in mind, Nathan. We have a place ready to move into and everything."

\---

_October, 1990_

"Come in," she called out in response to the knock on her door. A rather large student pushed the door open forcefully and held a pass up to her. She held out her hand for it and looked it over. Ah, right, Nathan Explosion...

"Have a seat, Nathan." The boy slumped down into the chair so hard she thought he might break it. 

"You've been sent to me to discuss your grades. You're not doing very well in your classes, Nathan. Your GPA has dropped below a 2.0."

"Okay," Nathan growled at her in response. 

"You sound as if this doesn't bother you at all," she observed.

"It doesn't."

"Well, maybe it should. You realise you need to maintain a 2.0 in order to stay on the football team, don't you?" 

Nathan looked her in the eye and frowned, hard.

"Well... so what? It's the middle of the, you know, the season. So what?"

"Middle of the season or not, you can still be suspended from the team," she warned him gently. "How can we help you to bring your grades up? We have a tutoring program available for struggling students..."

Nathan leaned back in the chair, clearly irritated. "Maybe if more of my classes let me, like, dissect frogs or something. Or bodies. Human bodies. That would be cool."

"Unfortunately not every class can be biology, Nathan." It was a bit alarming that he was so eager about dissecting human bodies, but that was just how teenage boys were sometimes. Probably. "I'm afraid that as of now, you're not going to be allowed to play in this Friday's game."

Nathan scowled at her. "Whatever. Fine then. If I can't play football, I'm just not going to go to school. I'll just quit."

"You mean, you're going to drop out?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Nathan, you cannot legally drop out of school until you're sixteen years old," she explained to him.

Nathan _sighed_ at her more loudly than she had heard anyone sigh in her life.

"Well, that's stupid. And you're stupid. I turn 16 in April. And then I'm dropping out." Nathan got to his feet.

"I would really advise against-"

"No," Nathan said. "You're stupid." He walked out of her office, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
